Poetical Science
by Cervantes Diderot
Summary: Matilda Black is the precocious daughter of Bella Swan and Jacob Black. After her parents are viciously murdered she is forced to trade her lavish life abroad for a dismal one in Forks with her grandfather. Embittered fury, a mysterious ability, and a clue propel her towards vigilantism. This cosmopolitan, glamorous teenager with an axe to grind is every Vampire's worst nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Orphan.

Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by Stephanie Meyer, or her publishing company, or Lionsgate.

OOOO

"It isn't much," Charlie Swan spoke gruffly, "But this is home." Everything about the man was gruff, Tilly had learned. From his silver buzz cut to the smell of faded leather and crackling cedar that clung to him. His eyes were haunted, the bags beneath prominent from stress. From the loss that had taken him to his knees only a week earlier. That was why she refrained from pointing out that this would never be her home. How her parents had made sure with her unconventional upbringing that she would never perceive Washington State as home. He set her mother's-_Her _designer luggage down by the door. Matilda gripped tightly at the handle of her mother-_Her _suitcase. "Your, uhm," He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Grandmother is going to be here to see you on Friday. Rebecca and Rachel called today..."

Grandmother, Tilly internally scoffed, was what you called a woman who was present. The dependable sort of woman who had steely grey hair, a name like Helena or Sheila, and taught you how to play Crazy Eights, or how to hot glue stuff. Renee Dwyer was simply not a grandmother. She was a flighty mess even before all of… The mess that left Tilly a downtrodden orphan in Forks. The few times Tilly got a call from Renee since _it_ happened had been horrific to say the least. Scatterbrained, frantic, almost psychotic. Most certainly unhinged. Matilda Black did not have the strength of will to hold herself together, let alone pretend Renee was a grandmother. Especially not when she was in such a deranged state. "Rebecca and Rachel are not my family." Tilly finally spoke, setting the suitcase down. "Family talks to one another _before_ a tragic murder. I do not want to see them. Not after they ignored my dad for so many years. They need to visit his grave. Not try to mend bridges through me."

She turned around to face her grandfather. Features softening slightly. "Thank you for telling me though, grandpa." Her voice was bright, though fraught with sadness. "And thank you for letting me live with you." Without pause the tall girl wrapped her grandfather in a tight hug. Ignoring how he at first awkwardly moved to reciprocate. His smell filled her nose and she took comfort in her spot on his shoulder. Remembering meeting him for the first time when she was four. He had visited them in Barcelona when her mother was working for a lucrative marketing company. The contact became more frequent with time until Tilly could always count on him stopping by. Wherever they were in the world he visited at least twice a year. More than Renee ever bothered at least, stuck in her head as the woman was.

"I love you so much, kid," He rasped softly, "This will always be your home. No matter what happens." Then, after a few long moments she pulled away, pecking him on the cheek first.

"Well, gramps," She smiled cheekily, "I know you are getting old. So why don't you take a break while I unload the truck." Surreptitiously wiping tears away from her angular cheekbones the sixteen-year-old chuckled his way. The awkward tension dissipated while they completed the task. Chatting about everything _but _the terrifying thoughts lurking in the back of their minds.

OOOO

_She spent the nights out. Not that her parents knew, of course. Clubbing with friends in clothing her father would have disapproved of. Stopping by book signings. Following her older friends to parties at the lavish homes of varied intellectuals and University Professors. Engaging those impressive minds in conversation whilst savoring champagne from flutes with a graceful grip. Dancing with men much older than was appropriate, and kissing the especially handsome ones too. This double life began when she was on the cusp of fourteen. Taller than most women. Far more confident too. Matilda Black was a blossoming beauty, and unfortunately for the world she was more than smart enough to know it too. _

_That night had been a raging party in a creamy white, Chelsea mansion. Tilly was invited by one of the posh boys she met in her engineering classes during the prior term at Oxford. Heels clicking she reveled in her break from designer clothing. It was nice to dress down in her favorite jeans and an old The Damned t-shirt. Honestly Tilly was growing far more interested in a possible research career than exploring her cosmopolitan lifestyle. Once the sixteen-year-old might have never imagined a night spent pouring over research articles in comfortable clothing would be such a desirable prospect. Yet now she tiredly longed for it with all of her heart. Deciding that perhaps this bash in Chelsea would be her last late night rendezvous for a while to come. _

_Untying her long hair from its ponytail the teenager reveled in the hot, early morning of an impending summer's day. Only to halt immediately in shock. Flashing UK police vehicles painted that nauseating green, nervous passerby tittering nearby, distressed neighbors sobbing in the backs of ambulances. Or not moving at all beneath bloody sheets. Hands clenching furiously into white fists, Matilda Black eyed the damage. Unlike anything she had seen before. Almost worse than the natural disaster coverage that always played incessantly on the news when they were living in an American city. Street lamps were torn and bent. Glass littered the streets in mounds. Entire segments of the row of townhouses had either collapsed into piles of dust or balanced like unstable columns of debris. _

_Her parent's own townhouse seemed to be the epicenter of the destruction. Kate Spade purse slinging off her shoulder to the ground. Forgotten in the face of a tragedy she could not fathom. Long legs pumping Tilly rushed past news crews and frantic relatives. Barely noticing the bodies that littered the street. Some of them buried beneath rubble. Others thrown like broken ragdolls across the cracked sidewalk. The police did not notice her until it was too late. Until she had collapsed to her hands and knees in the jagged piles of glass and stone before the spot where her old home used to be. Nailed to the neighbors splintered door like an effigy of Christ, arms outspread, eyeless head tilted to the left, was her mother. _

_Dead. _

Matilda Black had never been animated during her sleep. She was the sort to go deaf while in slumber. Unable to move, speak, or scream during nightmares. Even when the memory progressed further to the police station where social workers had accidentally left her shocked self alone in front of the television. The media excitedly dissecting the largest death toll in London's history. Analyzing how mixed between the bodies of their neighbors her father's dismembered body had been recovered. Apart from the head. Now, lying in her mother's old bed, the girl slipped out of the sheets. Terrified to do so at the irrational prospect that whoever had done her parents in was waiting to do the same to her. Even though the London police had concluded that her mother was an unfortunate target of extreme animosity from a band of, still uncaught, terrorists. Desperate for some relief from the boiling hot room Tilly forced her rusty window to scream open. Even though the earlier humidity had broken into a fierce rainstorm.

The water struck her face instantly as the wind struck a comforting pattern against her overheated skin. Eyes closing, the tan teen clutched tightly into the window frame as though it would save her life. '_You need to leave.`_A voice, hauntingly familiar, so cold it dragged icy nails across her spine, whispered in Tilly's ear. '_You are not safe here, Tilda_.' Eyes flashing open again, the sixteen-year-old spun around to face the spectral form of her father. Then in a blink he was gone.

She sobbed, sopping wet on her mother's old bedroom floor for an hour after.

OOOO

Tilly gripped the paper grocery bags more tightly than was likely needed. Of course, she was walking through the middle of Shitzville, Washington. Shaking her head the girl tried to not reel from the negative, judgmental trajectory of her thoughts. She had gone from living in the nicest parts of the world to the crack ass of Washington State. They had visited a handful of times throughout her life. Always in Seattle where her grandfather would meet them at fancy hotels. Things had changed drastically since Tilly was a little girl. The homeless population was out of control all over the western side of the state. Seattle now evoked images of traffic mismanagement, the heroin epidemic, and getting flashed by a homeless man when she was twelve in Pike Place Market. Travelling to Forks, between all of the grief from seeing her mother's body crucified by terrorists in London, Tilly had imagined it was just all of the big city congestion.

She was terribly wrong.

The further west her grandfather drove the worse things seemed to get. Entire towns once dominated by the lumber industry were now defunct. Swathes of unfortunate souls hooked on meth and heroin. All of the cities were gross and old, sandwiched within layers of misery and despair. Even the summer did not help matters. The gloominess of the skyline leaving Tilly terrified for a bleak winter. Then there was the fact that she was the new girl in town. Not only distinguished by her designer clothing and worldly presence, but by her pedigree. Her grandfather was the longest serving Chief of Police in Forks history. Her mother had apparently been incredibly popular with her age group when she lived in the town. Most of her high school class was still stuck in the town. All of them oh-so eager to sympathize with Matilda about what a beautiful soul had been lost.

Of course, all that any of them knew of her mother was an awkward girl from Arizona. Not the woman that Tilly had loved so deeply. The beautiful intellectual who had managed to get a full ride scholarship to the University of Michigan. Who turned her double major in marketing and finance into an enviable, high-powered, international career. The woman who worked her ass off so Tilly could dress in the clothes she so adored. Who cultivated her daughter's early passion for the sciences and learning so successfully that the sixteen-year-old already had two years of college under her belt in a Chemical Engineering and Applied Mathematics double major. Feeling the tears burn the back of her eyes the girl stomped into the diner with her groceries. Hoping desperately they would not perish while she ate with Charlie that night.

The man had dropped her off that morning in town for the Farmer's Market. He had to drive to Seattle to meet with the expensive attorney settling her parent's large estate. She insisted on spending the day in town shopping for all of the cooking goods his kitchen was sorely in need of. Big mistake now that she truly had an understanding for how small towns functioned. "You look like your mother." A soft voice made her look up to find a waitress peering downwards. Her black hair was greying, and her face was creased with thick lines of stress. Tilly was stunned to receive the comparison given that few ever really saw the bits of Isabella Swan in her. They had the same face shape and cheekbones, though she shared her father's nose and dark eyes. Their hair was even similar, and though Tilly's was a bit darker than her mother's the same bands of red appeared in its color on sunny days.

People often stopped their observations at her tanned, Native skin tone, and assumed she was a carbon copy of her father. That, perhaps, was why she bothered to look at this sad, harried woman's name tag. _Angela_. The name rang no bells, though Tilly was not surprised. Her mother had rarely ever spoken of Forks, other than to mention it generally as the place where her father lived. "Thank you," She answered, trying not to sound so damn somber. Her mother was a beautiful woman. The memories ensued sharply, crisply again like a knife to her side.

_She sat on the bed with her mother. The woman had worked a long day, again, but Tilly did not blame her. It was thanks to her mom's hard work that she had books, food, and pretty clothes. That her father could stay home with her, so she wouldn't have to go to daycare like her friends after school ended. 'You are so beautiful, Tilda,' The gorgeous women smoothed her daughter's brow with a kiss. _

'_You are beautiful, mommy,' Tilly had giggled, plucking at her mother's flawless, white Oxford blouse admiringly. _

'_Am I?' The woman poked her daughter in the belly with a smile. 'I wish my mom had told me that. That she had told me that I always deserved to hold my chin high.' A sad expression passed over Isabella Swan's face. 'You need to always remember that, Tilda. How beautiful, and kind, and clever you are.' _

_Tilly ran her hand up to her mother's face. Letting the tan fingers brush against that milky skin, and those lovely features. They had gone to the museum, the other day, and she reverently suspected even Michelangelo could not have sculptured marble so well. 'Can you read the Ada Lovelace biography to me mommy?' She asked softly, not wanting the moment to end. _

_Ringing laughter like honey filled the air, 'Of course, my love. Even though you should be practicing reading on your own. Numbers aren't everything…' _

Fighting a violent storm of tears, Matilda Black smiled upwards as Angela spoke again. "I was friends with your mother during high school. She was always such a kind, golden soul. Never judgmental. Not a mean bone in her body. I envied her for it, actually." Smiling wistfully the woman peered back down. "I can put those back in the kitchen where it is cool, if you want? Sometimes Chief Swan would have your mother wait here for him too."

"Thanks," Her voice did not wobble, somehow, and Tilly felt incredibly proud of herself. "I really appreciate it." Then as an afterthought she added, "Could I have a vanilla milkshake too please?" Sugar always made her break out, but given that her parents were dead and she was now trapped in Forks, Tilly supposed she had earned it.

"Of course, darling," Angela's face turned tight with stress again as she took the groceries. When the woman stepped into the back it was down to just her and a third woman sitting on a bar stool. Tilly noted the woman's unhealthily slender frame and muted, blonde hair. As though she were another victim of the rampant drug epidemic. Her gaze must have been sensed for the woman turned so that a vicious pair of eyes filled with loathing bored into Tilly's form. A nasty smile crossed her face as she stumbled up to both feet. Tottering across the restaurant until coming to a stop at the table. Slapping her fingers onto the surface unsteadily.

"Your mommy was a no good whore." The blonde forty-something hissed nastily. "I was just sitting here, trying to enjoy the news coverage. How she was pinned up, drained of blood." Tilly noted then that the television mounted before the dusty bar was turned to Fox News rather than the traditional sports channel. Even a week later helicopters and drones were flying over to reveal a formerly nice area of London that had been flattened in the explosion. "Your mother was a stupid bitch. I remember how she whored herself out to those freaks. The Cullens. _Edward Cullen_. He was her favorite. Then they left her behind in this town like a fat piece of useless blubber." Matilda had never heard the name before but it sent shivers down her spine for some reason. "She thought she was better than us all the same. The _perfect _Chief's daughter. Good. _Fucking_. Riddance."

"My parents were spectacular, vibrant human beings," Matilda sneered, standing to both of her feet, "And you are an envious slag who will never leave this town."

"Apparently," The vindictive shrew smiled bitterly, "Neither will you."

A vanilla milkshake was slammed on the table as Angela pushed Tilly back into her seat. "You listen, and you listen well…" She began a blustery-faced in the woman's direction.

Only, Matilda did not listen. She was stunned into silence by the shadowy figure who was suddenly sitting across from her at the booth. An old woman with a hooked nose and silvery hair. Smoky in quality, yet composed of thick enough tufts of black energy that Tilly could see her. '_Tell Lauren that Marnie is disappointed._' The old woman urged earnestly, '_I know you can see me. I have been waiting for a chance like this for years. Tell her that she needs to stop destroying herself over what happened. That she can only control her response to what he did to her so long ago. There is no way to take it back. Tell her that Darrel Duffy is long dead. That she needs to grow herself and make me proud.' _

Tilly did not know what to say as this blonde woman continued to shriek louder. Howling in Angela's face as the waitress threatened to call the police. '_Do it. Do it. Do. It.' _The old woman only Tilly could see insisted. She wondered in the back of her head if it was the death of her parents causing a delayed manifestation of schizophrenia. Yet the young woman stood to both feet. "Marnie is disappointed in you, Lauren." Her voice was clear and firm. The drunken woman stumbled back from her tirade in shock. "You need to forgive yourself." Tilly was emboldened. "Darrel Duffy is long dead. You are the decider of your fate. Only you can forget whatever happened. Only you can make Marnie proud."

The drunk shrew was now staring at Tilly in shock. Tears running openly down her horrified face. She stormed from the diner like a tornado, barely pausing to snatch her purse up from the bar. Slamming the door behind her so loudly the bell peeled splittingly through the air for several long moments after. "Wha-. How-?" Angela spluttered for a moment. "Honey," She gasped suddenly, "You look white as a ghost. Let me get you something to eat real quick."

That word. Ghost. It stuck in her mind for a long while as she gathered the strength to look up at Marnie. "How can I see you?" She asked, voice laced with uncertainty. Not wanting to believe that she was seeing what was before her. That what had just happened was some insane episode of sorts.

'_Your grandmother said you were a smart one,_' She smiled chidingly, '_I am a ghost._' With that, she vanished into thin air. Leaving Matilda Black to peer up at the television screen at the latest development. The Fox News host crowing excitedly about the latest, most bizarre development. Most of the victims in London had been drained entirely of blood.

OOOO

This is weird for me. I loved Twilight when I was younger, and it was the first fanfiction I read after the whole Midnight Sun fiasco. Though I never really thought I would write a story for it. In general I find the vampires too powered up to yield a sufficiently inspiring plot line. They don't eat food, sleep, or age. None of those things make for an appealing life. However, I started to wonder. What if Bella and Jacob had a daughter? What if Bella pulled herself up by her bootstraps after Edward left in New Moon and set a strongly empowered, self-loving example for her only child? This story excites me, and I am kind of writing it for myself. Matilda is everything that I ever wanted Bella to be when I was reading the books. An incredibly intelligent, confident young woman with a wicked sharp tongue. Hopefully people read and like this, but if they don't, oh well. I kind of write fanfic for my own enjoyment at this point in life.

Next Chapter: A Slip of the Tongue.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Slip of the Tongue.

Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by Stephanie Meyers, or her publishing company, or Lionsgate.

OOOO

The knife slammed violently into the cutting board. Again. Again. Again. Again. Until there was no more onion for Tilly Black to viciously dice. Prompting the snarl formed by her grinding teeth to vanish. Nothing but utter numbness remained where the anger had once been. An issue quickly managed when she tugged more vegetables onto the board. Throughout the whole cooking process Tilly directed her rage into the food. Jerking her shoulders violently to the Sister of Mercy song that blasted from the bluetooth speaker. Finally cramming the pan into the oven and slamming the door shut far harder than was necessary. Eyes closing, fingers going to her temples, the teenager tried to only think about the song pounding her eardrums to death.

Only the thoughts kept pushing through relentlessly. Her murdered mom. Her murdered dad. Fucking Forks. The mother fucking British authorities who were calling the attack a mere act of terrorism. Even though they still had yet to catch the blood stealing, crucifying, monstrous perpetrators. "Incompetent mother fucking _fuckwadded _bastards." She snarled in a half-scream. Fortunately, the music was so loud her voice was drowned given that her grandfather chose that moment to return home from work. Reaching into a drawer for advil the furious young woman cranked her music back down. Rinsing down the four advil, a personal record, with a small cup of water.

"Hey Tilly," The Chief of Police wrapped her in a hug as he entered the kitchen. "Need any help?" He sniffed the air, "Smells great."

"Rouladen," She answered, trying not to let that simple word metamorphose into a blood curdling scream of rage. "Learned how to cook it in Germany with…" Her voice gulped, and the numbness seeped back in, "My dad. We always took cooking classes in every country we stopped in." Tying her auburn mane into a high ponytail she strode into the dining room to set the table only to find herself surprised. Charlie had already done it for her. Which left the girl concernedly wondering how long she had spent in that kitchen trapped in her swirling cyclone of blindingly red fury.

"Let's chat for a minute," The Chief urged her to sit, and kept the oven mitts clenched in his hands. Clearly the man did not plan on letting her back in his kitchen for the night. They both settled at the table together. She had turned the whole house down and back out again that very day. Gone was the clutter indicative of a lonely bachelor. Everything sparkled, shined, or sat tidily in its respective place. "We need to talk about your parent's finances. There was the… Death tax. Then I need to put their houses on the market. The property taxes would eat their savings to nothing otherwise. Overall, there was enough left to get you through the rest of college, and not much more than that. The trust fund has a lot more, but you can't waste your life waiting until you are twenty-one. We need to make things work the best we can with what we have."

"What do we do until then?" She asked, trying to keep her tone from sounding bitter.

"School comes first," He answered in response. "Your mother was a smart kid, and you are even smarter. Maybe I couldn't help her with school as much as I wanted, but I damn well can help you. So I am thinking of retiring a bit sooner than anticipated. I'll stay on long enough to get my pension while you focus on applying to schools. Between the pension and your parent's savings we could even afford out of state tuition. Though I bet you could get some scholarships too if you tried…"

Just like that the anger fizzled out of her body. Much to her embarrassment, Tilly Black began to sob violently. Her grandfather, still in surprisingly good shape, hurried around the table to wrap her in a tight hug. "I love you," He whispered, making her choke. "So much. We might only have each other now, but I swear I am gonna pull through for you Tilda."

"You like your job so much, grandpa," She pulled back, swiping furiously at her eyes, "I can't have you quitting just for me. Let me just go to the high school. I'll blow my grades sky high. Maybe get a full-ride-."

"No way." The Chief of Police responded to her in a commanding tone. "Your mom worked her ass off to help cultivate your brains. I am not going to just let those years of effort go to waste. This plan is as much my gift to her as it is to you. Family was on the back burner for me for too many years. Not any more." The doorbell rang then indicating that the Clearwaters had arrived. "You go on upstairs and clean yourself up. I'll get the Rouladen on the table for you."

Kissing him on the cheek she marched upstairs. Cleaning her eyes in such a way that they were not stained with red. Then kicking off her clothing that had been soiled from a day of deep cleaning. Tugging on a navy-blue dress that stopped at her knees with sleeves that wrapped about the elbows rather than her shoulders. An old pair of yellow Blahnik pumps pulled the whole look together. Tugging her silky hair into a loose bun the teengaer decided that she felt like herself again. Decidedly much better than feeling like a whiny, broken girl.

Tilly arrived in the dining room again just in time to interrupt a nasty political argument between her staunchly conservative grandfather and the much more liberal Clearwaters. They all shut up at her appearance which was a godsend given that her own moderate views would have left her dancing around such conversation all night. "It is lovely to meet you again, I last saw you when you were three, four?" Sue Clearwater, it must have been given her age, stood to pull Matilda into a tight hug.

"Two," Charlie supplied, "It was when Jake took her to the Rez, to meet Billy."

"Regardless of such trivial details, this is my son Seth." She waved in the direction of a tall man, and then towards the beautiful woman sitting next to him. "And this is my daughter Leah." Seth lifted his hand politely while Leah stared at her with a deep intensity. Not usually one to be unnerved, Tilly cautiously moved into her seat. All of the adults, apart from Leah, drank from their wine glasses indulgently. Memories went from fond memories of 'Jake' to topics that were surprisingly much touchier in nature. The tipsier Clearwaters began to insist that Tilly return to the Rez and talk to her aunts. Embrace the Quileute culture like her grandparents had before her. She politely declined, informing them in her kindest tone that growing up around the globe had left her with very little cultural sentimentality. There was of course a deep love for baseball and star-spangled banners, but her father had always told her that he left the Rez for a reason.

"So, you are a little carbon copy of Bella Swan then, aren't you?" Leah Clearwater asked bitingly when Sue and Charlie retreated to the kitchen to handle the dishes, and Seth had gone to the bathroom. "From the big city. Too good for a tiny town like Forks." Even Leah had had a single glass of red, and her tongue slipped accordingly, "We will see how long you stay away from the Rez. Until you need our help and force _your _problems on our shoulders."

"Excuse me?" Tilly finally snapped in a frosty tone. All night long the older woman had been making pointed remarks. This was the most direct one yet. The teenager decided with the present lack of onlookers it was finally time for the Quileute to clear her chest. "I don't care if you are the biggest lightweight on the planet, or if you are as sober as can be. No one should say such nasty things about the dead."

"Funny thing to call the violently murdered. 'Dead?'" She tilted her head mockingly. "No. I don't think so."

"The news calls victims of violent terror attacks dead every single day." Matilda rebutted, "I hardly think there is anything funny about it."

The woman stared at her younger dinner companion in absolute shock. "Are you seriously telling me that your parents _never _told you?" She asked with the most sincere tone Tilly had seen her use.

"Told me what?" She asked in an annoyed tone. Feeling quite certain that no one else on earth acted in such a bizarre manner after a little glass of wine.

"About the vampires of course. The Cullens, Victoria? What really goes on in the Rez? I would expect this of your stupid mother, but your _father _died and left you unaware of their enemies?"

"WHAT THE FUCK LEAH?" Seth burst drunkenly back into the kitchen, his belt buckle still undone. In the blink of an eye both of them had disappeared from the house. Quite unable to breathe given that she knew it had not been a hallucination, Tilly watched as Sue and her grandfather stepped out of the question. Then they too wound up outside in the middle of the loud screaming match. Finally, Charlie came back in with slumped shoulders. Matilda helped him clean up quietly before marching up to her bedroom.

Hands shaking somewhat the girl wondered if her father had really had to put up with such backwater superstitions his whole life? Vampires? Then there was the fact that Tilly had an uncanny gift for remembering the strangest, most irrelevant details. This was the second time that someone had mentioned 'the Cullens' in relation to her mother. Her heels were off when it happened. '_The forward bedpost on the right. You are in danger, girl._' The words hissed across her ears like the lightest of zephyrs. She glanced around, half-expecting to find a spirit or whatnot connected to the unfamiliar voice. Like the woman who had known Lauren Mallory at the diner.

Cautiously the teenager slipped over to the specified bedpost. Her mother's old bed was not too large, fortunately, and even if it had been Matilda was in great shape. Jacob Black had been a major fitness junkie so it was no surprise at all that she happened to be a stellar athlete in turn. Lifting the wooden leg up her other hand slipped beneath to retrieve something metal and small. Pulling it into the moonlight she eyed the keys to a storage unit. Orange bands faded from years spent hidden beyond the reach of the light.

OOOO

With a brief exhalation Matilda Black forced the ancient storage unit door open. Her old pair of high rise jeans slipping up over her ankles as her heels elevated slightly out of her Birkenstocks. Staring into the dusty space she crossed her arms over her red t-shirt. All of it was so weird. Leah Clearwater's words. The fact that ghosts or stress-induced schizophrenia were leading her to storage units in the town her mother had left far behind. Android held aloft in the air Tilly eyed the many objects cluttering the small space. Trunks sat neatly against the walls on shelves. All of it looked secondhand as though her mother had raided the Goodwill. Propped against the back wall was a large, wooden work desk of sorts. Pausing to tug the light switch, the teenager stared at a bizarre map which was affixed to the wall above.

One corner had slumped over and she moved to smooth it back into place. Revealing the dusty map of all fifty American states. There were white, pink, blue, green, and yellow pins all linked together by black thread. Even when putting together a creepy investigative diorama in a storage unit, Matilda thought sadly, her mother had not been a red themed cliche. The dust was wiped away on the bottom right corner so that the legend became visible. 'Hale-Green, Cullen-Blue, Denali-Yellow. Victoria-Pink, Masen-White.' There were far more pins for 'Denali' than Cullen or Hale. The pink pins were contained within Washington though they occasionally migrated into Canada, Idaho, or northern California. Peeking down at the desk with its empty, dusty surface she opened a drawer on the bottom.

Papers piled up. Rifling through them, she was surprised to find a plethora of birth certificates, death certificates, deeds, and even a few insurance related documents. Some from the Nineteenth Century, most from the early Twentieth Century, and very few after. "What the fuck?" She whispered noting how the first names remained Edward, Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie while the surnames roved between Hale, Cullen or Masen. There were files buried deeper on the 'Denalis' too who also seemed to have a penchant for fake last names too. The drawer above that was full of files stuffed with newspaper clippings. Ranging from '_Doctor Saves Mayor's Baby'_-1935, to gruesome things like, '_Group of Canadian Hikers Slaughtered in Lethbridge.'_ On a hunch Matilda used her phone while placing her fingers on the map.

The newspaper article locations corresponded to some of the many pin placings. The more violent ones seemed to always correspond to 'Victoria.' Swallowing, she moved with a rapid sort of desperation. The third drawer up was empty. On the other side, the topmost contained several leather journals. Setting those aside to read back at her grandfather's home later Matilda moved down to the next drawer. Empty apart from an empty liquor bottle. Wincing at that, she tugged the last drawer out. Sealed containers that rattled upon being lifted up. 'Claws,' The faded label read as, indeed, vicious, long claws clinked on the bottom of the glass container. 'Fangs (W)' and 'Fangs (V)' were also stuffed in the sparsely filled drawer.

Hands coming up to her temples, Tilly peered at the trunks surrounding her nervously. Did she want to open any of them? What weird shit awaited her now? Still, hesitantly, the young woman opened up the one closest to her. Blow torches, hammers, screw drivers, and other such tools were packed inside. Similar things awaited her in the next few trunks. Then, finally, she came to the last one. A massive, metal club rested atop other such hand weapons. Embedded in its surface were some of the claws and teeth from before. This was far too much to cope with. Stuffing the notebooks in her purse she quickly locked up the storage unit before marching back into town.

Her brain whirled at a violent pace the whole while.

OOOO

"What do you know about the Cullens?" She asked casually as Angela Weber set the milkshake down in front of her.

"Excuse me?" The woman whirled back around, hands on hips. Fortunately the diner was not quite so crowded.

"The Cullens. They lived here at least twenty years ago. Lauren Mallory said something about my mother being a whore to them. To an Edward Cullen." She peered up at Angela with firm eyes.

The waitress stared at Matilda with a hard gaze. Then she sighed, shifted her hands off of her hips, and leant against the counter. "You are curious, I suppose. That is to be expected. Your mother has a past, and a good little chunk of it is hidden away in this town." Her face was wistful, and it added a good few years to her already haggard face. "Your mother was a bit awkward when she came to Forks. Very pretty, clearly smart, but definitely out of her element."

Now Angela sat down next to Matilda. "The Cullen and Hales had gotten to town about two years before her. They were…" The woman might have blushed if she did not have four children, "Lovely. There is not really a way to describe it. You know how you might expect models on the magazine covers to look that way in real life? But then they don't. Well the Cullens and Hales were the definition of airbrushed. Except for the pale skin. White as bone. I doubt I'll forget how it stung in the winter." Her eyes squinted, "Their father was a doctor. One of them was named Alice, I think. Something common. Then there was Edward."

Matilda's fingers clenched imperceptibly around her cushioned seat. "Your mother was just as taken with Edward Cullen as the rest of us girls were. Though I think that Bella was... Special somehow. It was a wonder to us all that she was the one who finally nabbed one of the Cullens. Looking back I can see just what a gem your mother was. Nothing sparkled quite like she did in this town." Her smile crinkled her eyes, "You have it too honey. Even if you don't know it yet."

The smile faded.

"Then the Cullens up and left. Bella was completely alone. All that remained of the alluring family. Out of her element again in this stupid little town." She propped her head on an elbow. "For months she seemed so depressed. Then one night it changed like the blink of an eye. She pulled herself together. Became the best student in school. Got a lot more confident too. Started dating your father and spending lots of time on the Reservation. Graduated Valedictorian. Left Forks and all of us far behind, not that I blame her."

Tilly shook her hair back in response to the conclusion. "Where did the Cullens go?"

"Why do you care so much about the Cullens?" She rebutted, tone suspicious.

"I found one of my mom's old diaries." Matilda answered smoothly. "I was just curious."

"Well you probably know more than I do, hun." Angela stood up to get back into her gruelling work.

Reaching into her purse Tilly felt her fingers brush against the leather binding of her mother's Vampire-themed 'diary.' She knew what she needed to do. "Hey, Angela," The girl plastered the charm on her face brightly. "You guys wouldn't happen to be hiring, would you?"

OOOO

**TEN MONTHS LATER**

Her fingers stretched furiously over the keyboard. Clicking loudly as her eyes peered intently at the screen. Music blasting furiously over her earbuds, but not quite so loudly as usual. Which was important considering that Charlie chose that moment to walk up the stairs and down the hallway towards her bedroom. Rapid fire the almost-seventeen-year-old girl switched to different tabs immediately. "Come in!" She called, wrenching the suddenly offensive earbuds away from her head.

"You got home early tonight." The soon-to-retire Chief of Police grinned as he leaned against her doorframe.

"Krav Maga let out early tonight, and the yoga studio had a pipe burst, so I had to cancel my classes." She answered back easily. Pulling her sweaty hair back into a ponytail whilst scurrying hurriedly over to her bed. Forcing the diary, which was heavily marked with sticky notes and indicator arrows into an exorbitantly priced purse purchased from Nordstroms two months earlier. Charlie, to his credit, did not question the suspicious behavior. Instead slipping over to peer at her laptop and the coding homework plastered hurriedly across the screen. The old behemoth that had been there before was long gone. Carefully examined by Tilly for anymore of her mother's secrets before getting smashed to bits.

"How is it going?" He asked in an impressed tone. "All of the programming whatchamacallit."

"Fine. I feel more confident than I could have imagined when I first started." Tilly answered back easily. Her educational status had been incredibly complex since arriving in Forks. The prior summer had been spent jumping, easily, over official bars. Then instead of high school or college she took up a multitude of online computer science classes. Nothing special. Certainly not the type of credential that would be plastered brightly on her resume outside of the skills section, but incredibly useful all the same. Before the teenager had only possessed the barest understanding for solving complex engineering problems and process designs. Now she was confident in calling herself at least average. Besides, all of that time on the computer was handy for her side projects.

She grimaced and groaned as she leant over to set her bag down too fast. Her grandfather was standing next to her in a split-moment. "Why do you do this?" He sighed as she reluctantly lifted her shirt to show him the blazing bruise on her toned stomach. "Let's go downstairs and get you some ice." She followed him obediently, casting only a single, longing glance back at her laptop. Usually the yoga class Tilly instructed soothed her aches and pains. For nearly a year the girl had thrown herself into a series of intense physical fitness regimens and self-defense classes. Paid for with money earned from lots of hard work at the diner along with another part-time job bagging at the grocery store. Then eventually the other two were cut back and replaced with work teaching yoga classes.

Far from glamorous for a girl who had once vacationed in Bali. A picture of her mother as a child hung on the wall. Fingers tightening the teen remembered just what was at stake. Hard work be damned, at least _someone _was avenging her mother. "I know you don't like how vicious the things I am doing can get, grandpa." She tried to speak soothingly, so he might be more willing to see her as a burgeoning adult. "But it makes me feel _safer_."

"I have a cabinet of guns and am the chief of police, Tilly," He remarked in his trademark, smart aleck tone. "You don't need to let those bastards beat the crap out of you to feel safe." She gladly accepted the ice he passed her way.

"You should see the other guy," She rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He caught her in a hug. "Are you happy? I sound as corny as you now." Moving from the kitchen Matilda turned her head once more. "Also, the Mariners are on tonight. Do you want to just order pizza?"

He smiled suddenly as she manipulated him. Like that the whole debate was forgotten. For now at least. Sore feet hurrying up the steps Matilda Black scurried her way back over to her laptop. Desperate to squeeze at least a few more minutes of searching out of the night. She did just that, yet this time was different. Surrounded by all of the pieces of a particularly large coding assignment was another fruit for her labors.

"I found you, motherfucker," She hissed with a smile. Arms moving instinctively Tilly tugged out a notepad. Flipping through the pages of information until stopping on the only open entry left. Transcribing all of the pertinent information down before shutting the notepad closed again. All of them. Matilda had managed to track _every last one _of the Cullens.

Staring at her from a crowded picture with other faculty of the University of Aalborg was the deceptively handsome face of her prey.

Edward Cullen had finally gone back on the grid.

"First the Cullens," She whispered the mantra to herself, "Then Victoria."

OOOO


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: A Vulgar-Mouthed Young Woman.

Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by Stephanie Meyers, or her publishing company, or Lionsgate.

OOOO

"What do you want?" Leah Clearwater snarled ferociously as her screen door slammed open. She wore gray sweatpants, a tight t-shirt, and no bra. The woman's hair was sopping wet. Whether it was that way from an early morning run in the rain, or a shower, Matilda did not rightly know.

"I need to talk to you," The teenager sighed resignedly, "And I don't really have much choice in the matter." They stared at one another for a very long while. Charlie had not mentioned the Clearwaters since they visited last summer, nor had they made any contact to her knowledge. Instead of answering Leah simply allowed Tilly into her small abode. Stepping aside with her scowl still in place. Feeling quite certain there would be no offer to take her checkered pea coat the teenager simply settled for unbuttoning it. She was guided roughly to a sitting position at the couch by a firm push on the back.

Soon Leah was sitting across from her with that snarling face tightly in place. Tilly sighed deeply before speaking, "I know you don't like me, and you didn't like my mother. However, that does not mean I can not be grateful to you." She tossed her auburn-ish hair over her shoulder. "I know that you protected my mother from Victoria. For that I am deeply appreciative. My mother likely felt thankful as well, even if she never got around to actually saying it. She was focused on other things while she still in Forks." That much was definitely true, Tilly thought, remembering the U-Haul storage room. "I need to ask you for one last bit of help, or guidance." The young woman sighed, glancing down at the tan skin of her hands.

"What?" Leah asked, not at all softened from the heartfelt thanks, "What else could the Swans need from the Rez? This time."

"I have been seeing ghosts since I came here." Tilly decided not to sugar coat the crazy words as they spewed out. "One of them hinted months ago that it was my grandmother. If vampires are real, and my dad, and you, and who knows who the fuck else are werewolves, then I have trouble imagining I am schizophrenic or something. So any La Push lore you might know. Any rumours about my great-grandmother. Anything about the Blacks. Please take mercy and tell me."

She had not anticipated that Leah Clearwater would toss her head back and chuckle throatily in response to that. "I always anticipated you would have this moment. Where you would have to come begging for the culture you rejected, that your father rejected. Now I don't know if I really have it in me to play the hero. Who am I to contradict karma, after all?" The infuriating woman cocked her head with a sneer.

Matilda Black's mouth opened and closed several times. She had no idea what to say at all until a door into the living room opened and Sue Clearwater entered holding a tray of tea. "I am disappointed in you, Leah. Charlie was there for us whenever we needed him. Yet at every turn you treated Bella with scorn when she needed us. Now her daughter too? Who cares about tribal membership or upbringing." The tray was slammed on the coffee table. "This girl is a Black. Sitting in our home asking for help."

"Why doesn't she go to her aunts then?" Leah asked bitingly.

"I can promise you, Leah," Sue moved to take Tilly's coat before storming back and sitting down next to her, "That the Black sisters don't know a lick about this."

"How-?" The woman's daughter stood suddenly, "Never mind. I don't care. Have fun with this idiotic, little twat. When she bites off trouble like her mother did, I won't be getting sucked into the shitstorm like Jake did." With that the temperamental shapeshifter strode from the house and back out into the rain, slamming the door behind her.

"You have found out a lot lately, haven't you?" Sue sighed, pouring them both tea from the tray. "That awful business with your mother and the Cullens. The vampires who they got her mixed up with. Our tribe's most deeply held secret. I do not blame you for thinking that your grandma Tracey was the medium." She sipped from her cup gently before setting it back down with a gentle clink. Where Leah was all hard edges and abrasive attitude, Tilly silently mused, the woman's mother was a complete juxtaposition. Gentleness embodied. "Your mother was a special woman. Your grandfather is a special man, in turn. Special enough that vampires and werewolves took notice of them. Though Charlie likes to think it, there is little mundane about him. His soul glimmers, just like your mother's did too. I was never surprised considering who his mother was."

"Helen Swan's own great-grandparents settled here ages ago. She was well-known in the area. A strange woman. Fashionable, lovely, clever too. I heard that she had gotten a degree in Chemistry from Udub when she was a young woman. Also quite unlike anyone else I have ever met. In a spiritual sort of way." Sue closed her brown eyes, silver hair tossing back a bit. "I met her all of three times. Once to commune with my brother after he drowned. The second to ask my father for his blessing to marry Harry. Finally to tell my mother that Seth had been born, and named for my brother." She paused, "You see, Helen was a wise woman. Not a witch. Incredibly insightful."

Matilda suddenly felt uncomfortable. "The confidence your great-grandmother had. Her way with energy. It was all incredibly… Powerful. Everyone here on the Rez would go down to see her in her heyday. That is how your father met the boys, though I imagine she kept him sheltered from it, mostly." Her eyes pierced Matilda's own. "You are like her, from what I remember, though not quite the same. I suspect that is to be expected considering how much older than you Helen was those times I went to see her."

The seventeen-year-old nodded somewhat dejectedly. She knew now where it all came from, but was no closer to truly understanding any of it. Helen Swan had died decades earlier after all. "Thank you, Mrs. Clearwater."

"Of course!" Sue smiled chipperly, "Hopefully I helped." Her lips pulled into a wide smile, "By the way, Charlie told me you were applying to loads of colleges. Have you decided on any yet? I imagine a brilliant thing like you got accepted all over the place."

A tight smile pulled across Matilda Black's face as she nodded, cynicism shining in her dark eyes. "I got into Stanford, but you cannot tell Charlie this next part. He doesn't really know quite yet. I miss being abroad. So I corresponded with a research professor in Denmark. I speak Danish well enough and he was so impressed with my ideas on his research that he offered to let me work in his lab over the summer." As Sue squealed excitedly, Tilly thought only of Edward Cullen's handsome face.

How it would crumple when she forced a werewolf fang-tipped stake into his heart.

OOOO

"Why are you doing this to me?" Charlie asked as they embraced one final time in the airport.

"I am doing this because I have to. For her. She would have wanted it, grandpa." Tilly smiled as she stepped back from him. "Besides, you know how I get in one place for too long. Give me this trip before I am trapped at Stanford all year long."

He smiled tiredly, too tired to fight with her anymore. "You get that from your grandma Renee. The wanderlust. Just don't forget to call me."

"I'll call you every day, grandpa." Matilda smiled sadly. "You know how much I will miss you, right? I wish you could come." That was partially a lie. If Charlie were there peering over her shoulder it would be harder to systematically eliminate the Cullens. Still, he was all she had left, and a strong part of her, the bits of childhood that were still left, desperately did not want to break the hug. Though eventually she stepped back, smoothing her long black pants while her billowy, green blouse fluttered in the humid environment. Vengeance was calling. Every drop of blood in her body was demanding retribution for the horrors that had torn her happy family apart. So towing her suitcase, backpack, and tote purse along, she didn't cast a single glance backwards whilst boarding the flight.

OOOO

Sometimes Matilda Black liked to cut dresses. Expensive dresses. A single dress was nice, but the pairings of a boldly patterned top with strikingly vintage pants, or billowy skirts matched with a smart blouse proved too tempting. Hence, on this warm afternoon, after a day spent in the lab, she wasted no time stopping by her lodgings and changing into such an outfit. Massive, black dots covered her sleeveless, silky, self-made shirt which was tucked into a pair of thrifty jeans. Her black jungle boots turned the ensemble into something that made her feel dangerous. Not just a fashion statement.

Taking comfort in being well-dressed the seventeen-year-old slipped from her cheap little lodgings which were located near the campus. Catching the eyes of all the people who passed by as she strode confidently towards where she knew her prey would be located. Not wanting to risk losing the feeling of empowerment Matilda took the stairs upon entering the appropriate building. Then, heart pounding in her ears, the young woman forced herself to knock on the slightly ajar, respective door. "Kom ind." A musical voice echoed melodiously from within the space.

Forcing a polite smile on her face she entered quickly. He had been beautiful in the one photo, but to witness it in real life was bizarre. Tilly forced herself to breathe despite the urge to run her hands through his silky, rusty hair. "Læge Cullen?" She questioned with a smile. Mind staying focused as had been planned. Mind reading had been the trickiest aspect to plan for. Her mother's notes on his gift had been sparse, likely because she had not been in a position to worry about such mental intrusions herself. However, there was no way for Matilda to predict that she might have inherited such a trait. So her mind whirled with all of the research papers she had been reading of late. Suddenly blown to the front of her mind in a dizzying cacophony as her body moved of its own accord.

"Ja?" He was no longer looking at his computer, peering at her with a distrustful face now as she circled the desk quickly. His pretense of humanity was her greatest weapon. Unless she admitted to knowing what the bastard was there was no way for him to risk exposure. So before he could even blink she straddled him on top of his leather, rolly wheel chair. "Dette er ike-!"

"My name is Matilda Black," She wrenched the stake free from the waistband of her jeans where it was tucked covertly under the shirt. "You exposed my mother to some blood-guzzling slag named Victoria, and she died for it." His eyes were wide with surprise. Which made it all the easier to slam the stake into his heart cavity. The insanely strong werewolf fang diving into the impenetrable vampire flesh, easing the wood deep into the new wound. "Now go to hell, you stupid cunt."

Only he did not go to hell. In fact, the Vampire did not die at all. He simply hissed in slight pain whilst glancing down at the weapon which had sunk into his body. Matilda regretted the decision to straddle him before murdering him. Planning it all out had seemed so very poetic. Of course, she had intended on him being a lifeless corpse by the end. A year of planning had been wasted. All the nights of hardcore excercise, of searching desperately for the Cullens online had been completely wasted.

Gold eyes, rapidly blackening, glanced up into her own. "Well fuck," Matilda sighed, "Get the whole snapping my neck thing over with. Unless you drink human blood these days? Fair warning, I had garlic bread with dinner last night, motherfucker."

"You are a vulgar-mouthed young woman, and I have no intention of drinking your blood." He spat this quite acidly. Though to be fair she _had _stabbed him in the heart without finishing the job. Finally finding the strength to move in the face of his repugnantly sexist observation, Matilda spilled backwards from his freezing cold lap onto the floor. Suddenly feeling inspired she bolted clumsily from the office, and all of the way back home. This time everyone who passed her watched, but for all of the wrong reasons.

OOOO

The rapid knocking on the front door of her small lodgings broke Tilly from her temper tantrum. Mostly it was self-directed, of course, with loads of slapping inflicted upon her own head. Hoping that her frantic packing had not caused a neighbor to complain to the landlord she bustled to the door. "Ja-?" He was pushing into her apartment before she could blink. Tilly instinctively shot a kick into the man's chest only to fall backwards to the floor in agony as her bones rattled. "FUCK!" She snarled, glaring up at Edward Cullen's stupidly gorgeous face whilst holding her leg.

He deigned her with a cursory, unconcerned glance before shutting the door quickly behind him. Before any concerned neighbors could investigate. "What the fuck are you doing in my apartment, asshole? I never invited you in."

"That is a superstition," He stated, moving further inside the small space. Doubtlessly taking note of her half-packed suitcase.

"So my mother wasn't lying about you sneaking into her bedroom window in her journal." Tilly stood back up to a hobbling stance. "I always at least gave you the benefit of the doubt when it came to that. Maybe my mother had been having horny dreams about supernatural creatures. Happens to the best of us. So long as she wasn't slobbering over Leprechauns, I guessed, to each their own. But no! You psychotic, stalker pervert."

The vampire turned to glare at her directly. She was a tall young woman. Tall enough to stare defiantly up into his murderous eyes. "Says the idiotic child who somehow tracked me down to Denmark and tried to murder a vampire."

"Better than you deserved." She spat hissily, "My mother and father are dead because of you. Also, I am no idiot, you will find. Few other people are clever enough to hunt down a coven of vampires with how you lot cover your tracks."

His face softened visibly at the mention of her mother. "I did not-." He gasped suddenly, running a hand through his product laden, rusty-colored hair. Leaving behind a messy mass of dense curls. "I left your mother because I thought it would keep her safe. If I had known…"

"Fuck your excuses." Tilly snapped at him, "What? Am I supposed to forgive you because you didn't _mean _for the most important people in my life to be murdered?" She scoffed, rolling her dark eyes wildly. "You exposed my mom to dangerous beasts that have no right to exist. Then you left her to face them alone. Because you were too fucking lazy to hunt them down with your jolly ass little coven. It is too late for apologies." He simply stood there in response. A hurt expression on his face. The seventeen-year-old almost screamed in rage at the response. Monsters weren't supposed to feign remorse. They were supposed to slobber, maim, and kill like endless clockwork. Instinctively she snatched her massive review book for Organic Chemistry off of the armchair before hurling it at his face.

He caught it, staring at her square in the face in response. "You do not get to stand here and mope." Anger pooled from her body like an aura. She had never felt this way before. "You can get out of my apartment now. Right this minute. Unless you are actually the aberration you pretend not to be."

Her gaze was wrenched from Edward Cullen's stupidly, mournful face by a sudden flash in her periphery. Suddenly unable to breathe she regarded the latest in a long line of ghostly visitors carefully. '_Causing so much trouble already, little one?' _The tall woman stood with a cocked head from in front of the small television. Her energy was overwhelmingly thick. Filling her lungs even from so far away. She looked familiar somehow even though Tilly had certainly never met the spirit before. '_Do you not recognize your own grandmother?'_ Everything clicked into place as Helen Swan slipped forwards, circling almost predatorily around Edward Cullen's unsuspecting form. '_My, my, my love. We do have much to discuss, don't we?'_

OOOO


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Taking Off the Leash.

Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by Stephanie Meyer, or her publishing company, or Lionsgate.

OOOO

'_You are so much like her_,' Helen Swan's voice faded in and out like rushing water. '_The miracle of genetically determined behavior never fails to amaze me.'_ She slipped like a whispery wind to another spot in the room. Prompting Matilda's eyes to snap the other way. The vampire surged forth to her side and stabilized her by the elbow as Tilly shook her head with surprise. '_Like your mother then, I suppose. Pining after creatures that could rip you to pieces? I tried my best to watch over her, but she was never as perceptive as I was. As you are, Matilda.' _

"Why are you only coming to me now? What was wrong about showing up when I was in Forks?" Tilly snapped out, shaking away from the vampire.

Her great-grandmother's phantom shook out its long, grey-black river of hair. '_You have chosen a life full of mystery. I wished to ensure that you were certain to fall on this path before interfering. Before sabotaging your potential with all of the darkness that exists, hidden, within our world.' _The ghost circled around Cullen now. A hand reaching up to caress gently against his stupidly gorgeous face.

"Miss Black?" The vampire asked carefully as though unsure of what to do with himself. "Who are you talking to?"

'_He cannot read your mind_,' Helen smirked triumphantly, '_My gift is too strong in you girl.' _

"How do I control it?" Matilda asked firmly, stepping away from Cullen as he moved tentatively towards her.

'_That will come with time_,' The woman answered coyly. '_For now, you have another objective that is more important. Victoria. The vampire that killed your mother and father. So many of her victim's souls scream out at me to send you on a suicidal quest for revenge. For justice. That is not possible on your own, as you learned today.' _

"Where is Victoria? Tell me. Please tell me." Matilda felt her breath start to race. She was starting to become overwhelmed by the fact that she was talking to her dead great-grandmother as a vampire inquired politely about her mental health.

'_Only if you promise to do this __**my **__way.'_ Helen nodded to Cullen again, '_You need to get him to go with you. He wants to redeem himself. A powerful vampire ready to be strung along for our purposes. The best chance we have of killing that foul, ginger bitch. If you get him to go with you I shall give you the name you need to begin tracking the elusive cunt._'

"He left my mother to die, even after he said he loved her," Tilly practically snarled, "Why would I ever want him as an ally?" She hardly cared that Cullen could hear everything she was saying.

'_It is simple, of course. He has a broken heart_.' The ghost's dark eyes glimmered with malicious cunning, '_Your mother is long gone, and you alone are the only option he can replace her with. Vampires are greedy, destructive creatures. They long for what they cannot have as those are the sorts of things that yield some sort of meaning to their pathetic, miserable half-lives. Tell him you will hunt down the vampire with or without him unless he comes. Bind him tightly to you with the faintest suggestion you may give him the love your mother did, the sort of love a beast such as he does not deserve. Keep him close until you use your brilliant mind to one day discover a way for humans to permanently destroy these monsters._'

"It is a long game. Plans years in the making hardly ever come to fruition the way one might anticipate," The young woman blinked several times. Processing the influx of information.

'_You are a clever young woman. I doubt you will have any trouble_.' With that, Helen Swan vanished leaving Matilda alone. Except for the detestable bastard standing in the room beside her.

Turning reluctantly to face him she smiled mirthfully. "I am not a normal woman. There will be things I cannot explain, as you would never understand."

He peered at her scrutinizingly. "Are you trying to say that I, a vampire, could not understand your little secrets?" His condescending voice was like music. She wondered how the post-birth genetic changes vampires experienced could make them so sexually desirable to humans. The mere thought of the complexity behind such a passing, scientific consideration was too much to handle. Mercifully Matilda did not have as broad of an understanding of biology, so it was easier to ignore the throb in her temples that was usually caused by unanswered questions.

"I know how we can find Victoria," She changed the topic rapidly by lying. Her grandmother would only give her that clue if she convinced the asshole to partner with her.

"Do you?" He purred carefully, "How do I go about that?"

"How do _we _do that, you smarmy asswipe," Matilda bit back viciously. "If you leave me here I will just go on my own anyways. We both know if I find her first she will kill me. After today it is quite apparent that I cannot match your kind physically."

"Language," He chided mockingly, "Perhaps I will just lock you away somewhere you will not get in the way. Until this business has been seen to."

She glowered venomously at him. Unable to calm as her temperature skyrocketed violently. '_Tell him his mother is here._' Came a soft, sweet voice from beside her as a bronze-haired ghost appeared beside her. '_That I miss the times when we would go for summer walks late at night without telling anyone_.'

"Your mother is here." Matilda announced sharply, causing Cullen to look at her with a skeptical glance. "She misses the times when you both would go out for walks at night in the summer without telling anyone."

"How do you-?" He began to stutter out only for her to cut him off easily.

"She hates what you have become. Not a vampire," Matilda quickly clarified, "But an empty vessel who ridicules intelligent, competent women. This is not the kind of man Elizabeth raised you to be, Edward Masen." She wanted to gag as his mother's ghost revealed that he had been using a fake name. Her mother had given her life as a consequence of knowing him, and had he even told her this tidbit of information? "She says that you are to bring me with you."

'_My boy is special. You will see_,' Elizabeth Masen smiled kindly, '_You are special too. I have hope you can help him find purpose. Please try, even if he can be an obstinate fool sometimes. Try to help my Edward, I beg you_.' With that the specter vanished.

The handsome creature looked mightily conflicted, as though he could not believe what had just happened. Though they both knew that there was only one answer. He was at least one-hundred years old. There was no way Tilly had managed to find such a bizarre secret in ancient records, or from any possible witnesses given that they were all dead now. "You will come with me," He sighed resignedly, "But you will do exactly as I tell you to do. Otherwise I have no qualms about locking you up with the other vampires in my coven until Victoria has been dealt with." The vampire now peered crossly at her, "Where are we going?"

She sucked in a worried breath, though there was no need. '_George Levinson_, _Berlin, __Neukölln__,_' Helen's voice whispered once more over the teenager's ears. She repeated the name and location of the vampire to Cullen.

He nodded stiffly as his phone rang suddenly. The vampire left, telling her to meet him in his office the next day when she got the chance.

OOOO

Her suitcase was packed neatly this time. The little apartment now tidy after the panicked frenzy she had been in last night. Matilda tied her hair back into a ponytail as she waited on the sidewalk. The weather had gone from bearable to unbelievably hot overnight. Sweating in the sweltering heat she tried not to feel overly guilty. That morning Tilly had been forced to go speak with the principal investigator of the research group. Inventing a fake family emergency so that she could leave on her vampire crusade in Germany. She wasn't the type to leave a job incomplete. Not when it could potentially bite her career in the ass one day. Her mother had certainly not raised her to bail like that. It left her with a sick feeling roiling inside of her stomach.

Not as bad, however, as the thought of this Victoria bitch still being alive. Watching as Cullen ripped the redhead to shreds and tatters would make up for feeling like such a useless deadbeat. "Hej skat…" A gaggle of young, blonde men jeered as they passed her. "Jeg kan godt lide disse shorts," Another snickered.

She simply flipped them the middle finger without turning around. Watching through her sunglasses as a sleek, Rolls Royce pulled up against the curb. The door opened quickly as Cullen stepped out in a flash. Towering frame rising up as he moved menacingly towards the Danish youth. "Heckling young women on the street?" He snarled, moving towards them, "Try talking to a man like that!" The men scattered in response. Whether they understood English, or had a good grasp on body language, Tilly did not rightly know.

"_Hey_," She hissed frostily, balling her hands into fists. He glared down at her beneath the sunlight, skin shimmering, eyes like stormy topaz stones, jaw tightly clenched. "I can defend myself. This isn't 1918 anymore you Spanish Flu'ed motherfucker. I am more than capable of taking after my damn self. If I could stab you in your stupid, dead heart, then I can stave off a gang of Danish fuckboys!"

He stared at her as though there were something bitter in his mouth. "You are nothing like your mother…"

"Is that meant to be an insult? My mother raised me to be my own woman. Not a clone of her." She spat back at him, "Now let's get moving. We have to start tracking Victoria." Her suitcase was soon crammed into the back of the nice car, and then they were flying through the streets at breakneck speeds. Matilda watched in the corner of her eyes as the vampire gripped the center console dash with his right arm. The polished wood and squeaky leather creaking beneath his superhuman strength. Momentarily she panicked that it had been an incredibly, unbelievably stupid move to get in a car with a vampire who could snap her in half. Clutching at the edges of her high on the high jean shorts, the girl suddenly regretted wearing such a daringly tight crop top. Struggling to breathe through the growing panic. Her mother had painted him differently than this. In her journals he had been a master of self-control and masochism. Now it seemed as though the vampire was dangerously unhinged.

"I would never hurt you." He said suddenly, "I just worry about your behavior. It is dangerously reckless. Attacking me in my office like that, finagling your way here, risking your life to hunt down vampires who would not hesitate to kill you in a split-moment." Her mouth must have dropped at the exposure of her private thoughts. Helen had… "Sometimes I catch a little crackle of your thoughts. Your mind isn't impenetrable like your mother's was, but it is still very difficult to get much more than a strand. Except for when your emotions are high."

"You know, I wouldn't be here if you had refrained from diddling with my mother," She snapped before mumbling, "Mind reading fuck."

"I looked into _you _after we met at my office this morning," He declared suddenly. In an annoying, matter-of-fact tone. "Brilliant, brilliant young woman. I always thought your mother was intelligent, but you give her a run for it. Pity. No one ever would have guessed it with your vulgar language and… Choice in clothing."

"Like it, huh?" She asked in a tone devoid of emotion. Careful now that he had let slip how her temper tantrums enabled him access to her thoughts. "Are you into legs, or my big tits? My mother had neither so I imagine that-!"

He stomped on the brakes expertly, maneuvering at the highest speed imaginable into a tight, parallel park. Pedestrians outside stared at the tinted windows with open mouths in response. She struggled to keep her breakfast down. "As you noted earlier in your deceptively clever brain, I am not as in control as I used to be. This situation has thrown me entirely out of whack. So, I advise that if you do not like the prospect of being locked away in one of my secluded residences for the foreseeable future that you shut your incendiary mouth." They glared violently at one another. Her breathing raggedly, him not breathing at all.

With a defiant sneer she tugged her thick sunglasses down over her eyes. Cullen swerved back out into the road. Feeling put out that he had gotten the last word in she allowed her rage to rocket upwards. Typically the young woman had to keep the anger from spilling out all over the place, yet now she took the leash off. Then, with all of the focus in her brain, Tilly Black threw her thoughts at him. '_Misogynistic ass_.'

It was a very long drive to Berlin after that.

OOOO


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: A Single Dance.

Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by Stephanie Meyers, her publishing company, or Lionsgate.

OOOO

There was something so odd about forgotten memories. Tilly had not lived in Berlin since she was twelve. Yet even driving through the city in a car, walking on the streets, standing in the hotel window left her reeling. Made her think of her parents. The young woman scoffed again as she moved from the window. Of course Cullen had booked them both rooms in the Hotel Adlon, with the most ludicrous of prices. Trying not to think of her scorn for the beast she ran her fingers through her silky, reddish hair. Dropping the towel before slipping into her usual nightwear. A massive, oversized t-shirt that had been extracted like all of her parent's other possessions from the rubble. She was taller than most women, yet the article of clothing still hung to her mid-thigh.

Ignoring the tiredness for a moment Matilda sat on the bed with crossed legs. Her mind still prickled at the phone call she had had with her grandfather earlier that afternoon in the car with Cullen. The thought of all of her lies making her stomach whirl violently all of the time. '_You are looking for Satan,'_ A man appeared before her, '_Hunting the devil_.'

"Victoria?" She asked cautiously, shivering as the faceless specter's voice hissed across her one, bare shoulder.

'_No. He goes by many names. Franz. Peter. He prefers George. The Devil. Master. Beelzebub.'_ That voice rushed out and was replaced as a bodiless woman hissed over him. '_The Trickster. Horned God. __**Astaroth**_.' Many voices chanted that name at once discordantly. She shivered violently in response. A primal response to something terrifying, not at all religious. Merely a deep aversion to the bogey man. '_We speak to you as the victims of his terror. Be warned, Seer._' Again the voice was wrested away, this time by a woman who spoke in French with a husky tenor, '_He makes the mystical a reality. Alters your state of mind in dangerous ways. Makes you fear him and love him at the same time. Astaroth turns himself into a God._'

Her fingers tightened into the high thread-count sheets. "How can I get the information I need from him?"

'_The vampire will not work, little one_,' A haughty, condescending man laughed in her mind, '_Your vampire that is. Many have tried to kill him, to even extort more than a millennia of secrets from George Astaroth. None of them have lived to tell the tale. You must play the game. You must play it better than I did._ _I survived the longest in the Devil's den. Thirteenth born son of a pastor, I was homeless in Prague when he found me. The only thing that saved my life was my spirituality. Having a faith, code, and religion of my own_.' She contemplated the words carefully, '_He was fascinated by me. Wanted to convert me. In the end I took too long to convert.'_

"How long is too long?" Came her final question. There was no answer. The trance finally broken, she stood to both feet. Pacing as her loose hair billowed wildly about her shoulders. There was a knock on the door. Only one person knew she was staying at the hotel. Sighing, Tilly stepped over to it. Hesitating a moment prior to pulling it open. Cullen surged in, she felt anger surge in her belly at that.

"My name is Edward," He corrected firmly, reminding her that it was a mistake to feel anything other than apathy in his presence. "When we agreed to travel together I did not anticipate it would be necessary to stipulate that you wear clothing."

"This is what I sleep in," She snapped, "I didn't give up my research to be denigrated by a sexist pig."

He spun around pointing a finger at her. Yellow eyes glimmering viciously, chiseled features glowing like marble. "Stop calling me that. I support women. Over the decades I have donated more money to female empowerment that you will likely earn in your lifetime."

"Giving money to women is not the same as being a feminist. You think because you gave money to charities it gives you a right to tell me how to dress? To critique the 'vulgar' words I utter?" She could not help the fury that scorched deep inside of her. Despite her scientific, formulaically brilliant mind, there was an artistry hidden in her spirit. Perhaps that was what pushed her to perform the idiotic, unexplainable, expressive statement in that moment. Bristling angrily she wrenched the t-shirt over her head as he predictably protested. Balling the thing up prior to throwing it in his face while striding towards him. "There, _Eddie_," She gestured towards her nude form, standing directly before him. "I am officially ruined. Not a virgin. Unlikely I will ever aspire to reproduce. A man has seen my naked form. We can stop pretending I am something to be defended."

To his credit he did not glance at her body. Merely at her eyes. Unflinching and scrutinizing all at the same time. "You will not go into contact with George Astaroth," He said firmly, clearly having managed to get into her brain again. "That is not sexism. That is common sense. If he is that dangerous then I will have my hands full enough without taking care of you."

"Please," She grabbed him by his shirt, "I am our best shot at getting information on Victoria from him. If I interest him enough then he will-."

"He will become obsessed with you. Like James became obsessed with your mother. You will never be safe, and we will have to deal with another threat." He cut her off easily. Cold fingers slipping upwards and trapping her hands beneath his. "I have friends nearby. They will help me when I go to deal with this vampire. We can handle him."

"The ghosts," She started awkwardly, feeling horribly stupid in that moment. Talking to a vampire about the voices in her head whilst standing completely naked in front of him. "They said that he is powerful. He can get in your head and make you think he is a god or devil or something like that. One even told me he is _more _than one-thousand-years-old. We can only beat him if I play his game."

"No. I cannot in good conscience put you in harm's way. Your mother is owed at least that much after how I failed her." He extricated her fingers from his shirt with surprising gentleness. Once free to move Cullen bent and picked up the crumpled t-shirt from the floor. "I could never think of you as ruined. You are intelligent, and brave. What you said was right. Just because I have money to throw at problems does not make me a feminist. I will work harder to treat you with more respect."

While he strode towards the door she hurriedly tugged the shirt back on. The words escaped before she considered their full impact. "Mr. Cullen," She nodded, affirming to herself this was the right step, "I will try to show you more respect as well."

"Good night, Miss Black," He answered simply, before stepping out of the unnecessarily luxurious rooms.

She forced her mouth closed before hopping into the massive bed. Wondering whether vampires could have Bipolar Disorder.

OOOO

Mr. Cullen had told her he was leaving an hour before the voices came back in full force. Whispering the ever-changing location of George Levinson into her mind as the plethora of voices wrested for control. The pragmatic choice would have been to keep herself out of harm's way by calling her vampiric patron and telling him the location of the beast he was hunting. However, she knew full well by now from the countless spirits communicating with her, all of them victims of this George character's, some of them even claiming to have been vampires themselves, that that would have been an exercise of futility.

So Tilly dressed in her finest clubbing gear, crammed her very fake, long-unused ID in her purse, and left after tugging her chaotic tornado of hair into a high ponytail. The voices hissed in her ears during the entire cab journey to the club where the vampire was allegedly located. By the time she finally made it inside the late afternoon had turned decidedly into dusk. '_In the lounge… In the back… Do it… Don't do it… Run… Vengeance… Poor, stupid girl…_' Some of the languages were recognizable to her. Others not. All of them buzzed at once. Focusing on the thumping music instead of her schizophrenic subconscious the youth slipped around the crowd. Ignoring a waitress who tried to block her from entering the stairwell to the vip lounge.

Further upwards she climbed until finally coming across a hallway with many doors. Designer heels clicking she tuned in to the psychic directions. Twisting the handle on the third door down. Finding herself standing awkwardly in a smoke filled room which had a black, leather furniture, and a bay window. Lights flashing in from the dancefloor below. Sitting on the couch nearest the door were two topless women. Both of them giggling into nothingness. "My, my," A man spoke from further in the room, "It has been days since anyone has come looking for _me._" The accent was ancient. Watery, sultry, and old as the Roman Empire itself. Completely unidentifiable to her mortal ears.

Sitting before her as though he were on a throne was a gorgeous man. Hair a matted crown of gold atop his head. Clad in slacks and a white button-up as though he were like any other professional out on a Friday night. Except, the most gorgeous office worker to have ever existed. Sitting on either side of him were two men. One asleep, the other convulsing as his eyes were rolled into his head. Even in the darkness it was easy to see the bloody bite marks on his dark skin. Between the man's spread legs, on the floor, knelt a woman who appeared to be chanting under her breath as though she were in prayer. Completely topless.

Repulsed to see another woman reduced to such a state by the bloodsucking monster she fought to control her emotions. "I am hunting a vampire. Victoria. I have good reason to believe you know her whereabouts, sir…"

His flaming, red eyes snapped fully onto her form. Obviously interested. "Your god commands you to leave," He called loudly, all but the worshipper moving to leave obediently. "His dark majesty commands you to go hunting for fresh food, slave." Now the final cult member stood to leave. Eyes so glazed that she did not seem to even take notice of Matilda as she passed by to exit the room. "A human vampire hunter. Intriguing…" He patted the seat beside him, "Sit with me."

She suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to not only do as bidden, but to strip bare and beg him for mercy. "Stop," Her voice emitted the most ferocious snarl it had ever mustered before. "I know exactly what you are, Astaroth."

"My," He smiled tauntingly, eyes flashing dangerously, "You are most unusual. No one has called me that in years. What was your name?" The compulsion fell heavily in the air as her mind wriggled unpleasantly beneath his abilities.

"Leah Clearwater," She answered defiantly, taking a sick bit of joy in stealing the rude woman's identity. Hopefully Astaroth would finally finish off the vile slag for her. "Now we are acquainted, perhaps you can help me."

"Victoria is a boring proposition," He sighed drolly, standing to both feet, towering over her, "Why bother with her when you could stay with me. Have a god to worship?" George Levinson bent to put out his burning cigar in an ashtray.

"I am much too special to waste my life serving a man like some slave." She bit back. He stopped in front of her. A hand reaching up to caress her jawline. "Victoria murdered my parents. Perhaps you heard about it on the news. She destroyed our entire street. The largest death toll in London since the coronavirus."

George broke into a deep, bright smile. Sharp teeth flashing. "You are fun. I like that." He let his hand move along her neck to her shoulder until it rested against her left hip. "The more time passes the more boring your kind gets. No fire, no sass. You have both of those things." His head tilted, "I will tell you where to find her. I can smell the vampire on you. Obviously you have the help needed to sort her out. This information, of course, is contingent upon a promise. You will find that any promises you make to me are incredibly hard to break."

"I need to know what I am agreeing to-." She began before he cut her off sharply. His other smarmy hand dug into her right hip as well.

"That is simply not how it works, little one." He pressed his forehead to her own, "Either you care enough about avenging your precious parents that you will make any necessary sacrifice, or you can leave." Smoky breaths filled her nostrils, leaving her feeling incredibly dizzy. In a flash they were seated on one of the couches, her body pressed snugly into his own, freezing cold form.

"I promise," She gasped out as he struck her mind with his undue influence.

"Good. I know that after Victoria stopped by to talk to me that she was heading to France. Marseille. We have a mutual friend there. These last few decades he has gone by the name Pierre Lefebvre." Those terrifying teeth, shining a bright red glinted under the strobe lights. "Now. You will have a dance with your god." There was a dangerous edge to George Astaroth's voice, "You did promise." Still in the fog she slipped through the vip halls with him, winding down the stairs and finally finding herself on the dancefloor once more. He was glorious in the flashing lights. His gorgeous countenance marred with terror by the flashing lights. Part of Tilly liked it. She wondered if her mother had felt this way every time a vampire came her way.

"Hold my purse," The girl tossed the bag at a waitress. Astaroth gripped her hand, waves of cold suddenly arced up along her arm and body. When he moved the fog of illusion disseminated outwards from him like smoke. Bodies moved obediently out of the way until the pair of them stood in a medium-sized circle in the center. Cliche as it was, a recorded mix of _You Spin Me Round _began to pound on the speakers. Her body started to undulate and quiver. Hips shaking like they never had before, legs striking precise patterns, her hair flipping violently as she ripped it free of the ponytail. The black skirt Tilly wore cinched up higher on her thighs, and her white tank top stretched across her toned stomach. For the first time since her parents died, Tilly Black danced.

She felt the music, enjoyed how the sensuality returned to her in gradual trickles before the floodgates crashed wide open. Astaroth moved in the boundaries of her vision, his illusory influence hovering nearby, though quite unable to move in on its target. This moment belonged to _her_. Tilly forgot entirely about her parents since they had died. Head tossing back in delight, sashaying to the taller, millenia-older being, the young woman took total control. Hands digging into his strong arms she spun herself around using his vampiric form. Hands reached in through the circle, stealing her away only for Tilly to focus her attention back on the vampire.

All too quickly it ended. Astaroth's strong hands wrapped around her hips, his lips at her throat. A bubble of mist surrounding them both and blocking out any interruptions. "You are special, girl," He growled out against her throat, "You could occupy my attention for quite a while yet."

"I am better than a fancy to piss the years away," She hissed back against his cold lips. "My promise has been fulfilled."

"I suspect you will be able to find me again if you ever need me." His red eyes smoldered in the final moments before he vanished. Though the magic had left with him, she still felt dizzy with glee. Retrieving her purse the young woman slipped out of the club and onto the streets of Berlin.

She spun around in the rain until her hair, skimpy top, and flesh were soaked with rain.

OOOO

When Tilly returned to her hotel room it was unsurprising to find Edward Cullen standing ominously in front of the window. Sitting on the couch was a pixie with shoulder-length pink hair, and freakishly insightful eyes. By the tv stood a blonde man dressed as though he had just gotten off of a racetrack. "_Bite me_," The teenager ground out sarcastically, "_More _fucking vampires?"

"I'm Alice!" Pink hair chirped brightly, "This is Jasper."

"Oh, Alice?" Tilly cocked her hips as she moved into the bathroom quickly, exiting with a towel. "Tell me, are you the one who can see the future and shit like that?"

"Yes," The vampire smiled innocently, sweet as a maraschino cherry.

A now very damp towel was tossed in the vampire's face. "FUCKING FUNNY! WHERE WERE YOU WHEN MY MOTHER AND FATHER WERE MURDERED YOU FUCKING CUNT!?" Matilda felt all of her tendons coil so tightly that they could have snapped. In a blur too fast for her eyes to comprehend, the blonde snapped towards her only for Edward to pin him back into the wall so hard the surface cracked. "Oh, yeah, blondie. I couldn't forget about you," She sneered, "My mom mentioned you in her journals. _Poor Jasper_. _Poor baby_. The asshole who attacked an innocent girl on her eighteenth birthday! The weapon of mass destruction that you two idiot fuckfaces decided to plant in the middle of how many highschools?" A thoughtful pause, "Oh that's right. TOO FUCKING MANY!"

"Now Matilda," Alice interjected, "If we could just calm down and talk I am sure this whole matter could be resolved to your-."

With a mighty roar Tilly hefted up the coffee table and threw it across the room. "Keep telling me to calm down biatch! There is more shit I can destroy. All of it is going on Fuckward's credit card too!"

"I have more than enough money," Edward had calmed a properly chastised-looking Jasper down. Now he stood with crossed arms, staring mutinously down at her.

"I will burn every hotel in Berlin down Edward! So help me god you better shut the fuck up and sit down or I will not stop until your credit score is absolutely tarnished." Came her sharp retort. Moving to her bed, the young woman sat on the end while deep, ragged breaths tore through her throat. "If you have any intention of bitching at me for handling Astaroth myself then I don't want to hear it. I can take his lead and track down Victoria myself. You weren't even needed tonight. Who is to say you can even handle Victoria when we find her?"

"What happened to our pact to respect one another?" He demanded furiously, slapping his hands together over her rant so mightily that a thunderclap echoed in the small space.

"That was before you brought your scummy relatives into my sleeping quarters." Tilly glared venomously at him. His scowl deepened as they glared at one another.

"Alice smiled dreamily at her, "The more important topic that needs to be discussed regards the fact that you are, indeed, still alive. Nor did anyone have to die tonight."

"Who would have died?" Tilly wondered aloud, deciding to ignore her bubbling rage.

"Had the three of us gone to Astaroth he would have vanquished Edward and Jasper both before I finished him off," She answered knowingly. "Had Edward gone to retrieve you every human, including yourself, would have been slaughtered within a mile radius." There was a pause now, "If you had handled George Astaroth with even a pinch less care he would have taken you on the middle of the dancefloor." The vampire did not pause long enough for Tilly to clarify whether that was a threat of a sexual nature or blood-drinking.

"You _danced _with George Astaroth?" Blondie interrupted suddenly. His eyes were wide and he stood deathly still.

"Yes," Tilly rolled her eyes, "It was his stipulation for telling me where Victoria was. Which he did." The last was directed Edward's way. He still roiled with visible anger and haughty disapproval. "When he tried to control me… Bring me under his influence he couldn't though. It was strange."

"I know Astaroth personally. Perhaps things would have gone differently if I had been informed sooner." The blonde continued, shooting a constipated expression at Edward, "He is dangerous. My maker was well-acquainted with him. That you managed to avoid becoming entrapped within his thrall is impressive. Many vampires and humans cannot claim the same immunity."

"Your mother was fully shielded from my ability, and you are partially exempted," Edward interjected, "Perhaps this is simply a similar effect." He folded his arms, "Nonetheless, we need to know the name that he gave you." Tilly nearly argued that he would know in good time when she could ensure they would not ditch her. Instead the pixie freak Alice interjected.

"Pierre Lefebvre in Marseille." The pink-haired vampire swiftly supplied the answer.

"Great." Tilly deadpanned, "Now tell us where the _fuck _Victoria is hiding."

"I can't," The vampire who had seemed calm even when Tilly threw a towel in her face now seemed to be losing any patience. "Victoria is a blur. When I try to focus on her she disappears. Never making up her mind on anything."

"So you are fucking useless," The young woman hissed out, "Why did you even both-!"

"Jasper, Alice, I would like for the two of you to leave Matilda and I to talk." Edward cut through the tension as though it were butter. Jasper was gone in flash. Alice, however, danced across the room, Tilly scoffed at the excessive display of grace, and whispered urgently in Edward's ear. "I know. Just leave." In a blink they were alone. "I will not ask you to go home, or leave you behind, Matilda." He began in a voice that was much too calm for comfort. She felt her heartbeat race at the shocking declaration. "Still, we must be clear on one thing. Just because George Astaroth was so compliant with you does not mean you can pull similar stunts with any future vampires we may encounter."

Suddenly he was standing in front of her. "I could rip your throat out with a flick of my pinkie finger. Break every bone in your body and derive a sick, primal pleasure from it. However, I do not because I am civilized. Victoria is not, nor, I promise you, are those she keeps company with. We will cross paths with the seediest, most savage of my kind. Do not work behind my back again, or it will be your fault entirely. Understood?"

Never one to be cowed into submission, Tilly decided to accept on her own terms. Standing up to both feet she reached out carefully and grasped his cold hand in her own. "We are partners," The young woman pressed herself daringly into his personal space, dark eyes intent on topaz, "After today it is clear you need me. We will finish off Victoria. _Together_."

"_Together_," He responded in kind, hand curling around her own as they shook on it.

OOOO


End file.
